Stuck in a Nightmare
by pyromaniac325
Summary: My take on how Newt got his limp according to Death Cure, so yes, there will be spoilers. Oneshot.


He runs. That's all he ever does is run. There's nothing stopping him. There's not even anything to look for. Not really. Newt has long ago accepted that they won't find a way out. He has long ago accepted that he will be stuck here for the rest of his life. He has long ago accepted that W.I.C.K.E.D has won.

Breathing heavily and sighing he slows to a jog, then a walk, then to a complete stop. He takes his water –bottle and pours it blindly over its face. Some finds its way to his mouth, the rest mixes with his sweat in the hopeless attempt to cool him off. He runs a hand through his sticky long hair. Maybe he should consider cutting it. It would keep him cooler when he ran everyday.

But he knew he'd never do it. His hair was one thing the Creators couldn't control. The rest of his life he wasn't sure about. You start to doubt yourself when every second of the day you have bloody little robots following you, monitoring you. If they're watching, what else are they doing?

Newt sinks down against the Ivy-covered wall, and stares at one of the gold plaques across from him before eating half of the sandwich he'd packed. Ham. Again. Oh, joy.

Nothing ever changes for him. Every day is exactly the same. Looking at the path he'd taken today he's surprised there isn't a rut in the stone floor. He is sure the only reason there isn't is due to the fact that every day the walls move. But even the patterns within the Maze, the most unpredictable thing in this Glader's life, eventually begins to lose its originality. It repeats.

Newt tilts his head back looking up at the sky, knowing he'll have to get moving soon, but the thought only depresses him.

_I could do it_, he thinks. _No one would miss me. In fact, the Glade would be better off without me._

He stands and turns, studying the wall behind him. Climbing would be easy. All the Ivy provided an infinite number of hand and footholds. As long as he made sure he was high enough…

He can do it. He will do it. He can't take life like this anymore. If he thought it would do any good in the long run he'd tough it out. But he can't see anything in the future leading to the Gladers finding a way out. They're all going to be stuck here, and Newt knows it. Unlike them, he's not willing to sit here and wait. Not when it's already so clear. Is he the only one that sees it?

Newt grabs hold of the Ivy far above his head and pulls himself up, scrambling for a foothold. Once he is secure he climbs higher. And higher. And higher. Until he is sure he is high enough.

Letting go with one hand he swings himself around so he is facing outward. He stares at the ground beneath him. It swims in front of his eyes as vertigo begins to take over. He's high enough. He's sure he's high enough.

He thinks about his friends. Alby, back somewhere, safe in the Glade, never having stepped foot out into the Maze, and wanting to keep it that way. Minho. The best of the Runners, one of the few with enough hope that someday the patterns recorded will lead the Gladers out of here, and home. Where ever the hell home was.

Maybe Newt's wrong, and they will make it, but he can't see that becoming the case. In any situation, if they make it now they'll have to make it without him. He's done. Through. He won't sit and take this anymore. He is going to show the creators that they don't control him.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This is it. This is _his_ escape. Maybe he finally has found a way out. But he almost can't bring himself to let go.

"Shuck it," He whispers out loud, and releases his grip on the Ivy.

Falling.

Pain. He hits the stone and feels pain. He had expected it but not like this. He had expected pain, then numbness. He had expected it to end.

But it's not ending. He can still feel the pain seeping through his leg starting from the ankle. It spread.

It's the pain that tells him he failed. He hadn't climbed high enough. He'd failed.

He knows he can always just stay here. Night will come. The doors will close. And the Grievers will find him.

But terrible as being trapped here may be, the Grievers scare him more. He wanted out…but not that way.

The Grievers haunt the dreams of every Glader. It's the worst thing they have to fear. No one wants to be caught with them after dark. Even someone as desperate for a way out as Newt.

He can't walk. There's too much pain. Walking is impossible. He now has two choice, crawl, or stay. Either way he's stuck in a nightmare.

The Grievers will kill him. There is no doubt in his mind about that. But is dying like _that_ what he wants. Stay and he's at their mercy. Nightmare number one.

If he somehow makes it back to the Glade he's still stuck. He'll be even more stuck. He knows deep in his gut that he will never be able to run again. Being stuck in the Glade, almost useless, holds no appeal for Newt. Nightmare number two.

He knows the choice is already made for him. Slowly, Newt begins to crawl.


End file.
